[Child of the 7th Age]

The tent was empty except for Ayar and her serving maid Claris, the latter a grey-haired woman who had been serving Ráma's family since the twins were born and whom Narika had instructed to watch over her mother while she and Thorn rode south. Grey shadows played along the canvas walls, the light kept at bay by heavy leather flaps intentionally strapped tight over window openings, since Ayar's eyes could no longer bear the sharp rays of the sun.

The young woman standing at the entrance could just make out her mother's gaunt figure tangled in the bedcovers. Ráma could also see that her mother was sleeping: a sleep that seemed eerily deathlike in the depth of weariness and pallor that had fallen over Ayar's face. The vibrant and animated woman Ráma had known was gone. In her place was someone who looked like a stranger.

Ráma walked forward, sinking to her knees and burying her head in the bedclothes. Her initial reaction was to wonder whether this could really be happening, or if she had fallen into a troubled dream and would awake in the morning with everything all right. The others in camp had been afraid to disclose her mother's illness. They had wanted to wait for her sister to come, hoping that Narika would find the right words. Ráma's earlier anger and frustration dissolved, replaced by loneliness and a trace of fear. Her mother was the one fixed point in her life, the person she could always rely on. Only now her mother was leaving. She could not have put her feelings into words, but she felt as if years had been stripped away and she was once again a small child hoping and believing that her mother could somehow make things right.

Claris leaned over and placed a kiss on the young woman's brow, whispering a brief explanation of what had happened in recent days and then adding, "Ráma, I'm so glad you're here. We all feared you would arrive too late."

The young woman looked up through tear-stained eyes and replied, "I would have come faster if I had known."

"But there was no way to warn you with the storm. And Thorn said he'd left a message for you to return at once."

Ráma nodded glumly in acknowledgment, part of her wishing that she had never met Mithadan and Airefalas, and wondering whether things would have turned out differently if she'd returned before the unknown assailant had struck. But she knew her mother would have insisted otherwise. A word once given is not withdrawn. And she had promised the Gondorians that she would help them find their missing friend.

"Was she so ill from the beginning?" Ráma pressed.

"Even worse. At first we could not rouse her. But the stranger Aiwendil arrived and was able to help. She has remained alert for several days. This morning, she seemed no different and said goodbye to Narika and Thorn before they rode south to inspect the herds. But since then, she has worsened. And even Aiwendil's potions do little to help. I did not know what to do. It is beyond my skill."

"I do not know either. I am no healer. But you must have a messenger fly to my sister and ask her to return. Reassure her that Ayar lives but that she must hurry back. Also run to see if Yalisha is in camp and can come to help."

Claris slipped out as Ráma had bidden. At the same time, Ráma noticed that Miri was curled up in a small ball not far from the door, too nervous to draw attention to herself by leaving yet uncertain if she should come inside. Ráma beckoned the girl over and asked her to refill the water jug and then come back. As the child disappeared out the door, Ráma heard a rustling in the covers beside her. Ayar stirred, opened her eyes, and gazed up with a glint of a smile. Using all the strength she could muster, the older woman leaned close and spoke to her daughter, "I was afraid you would not come. I could not leave without saying goodbye."

"Hush, mother. You mustn't say such things. You will get well soon."

"No, child. There should be truth between us. Soon I will leave behind this poor shell and fly free across the stars. Do not pity me. It is you and your sister who must stay and face the problems here. There are things I must say to you and, if I can, also to your sister. But if time will not allow, you must pass on my words to Narika and the Elders. Promise me, little one."

Ráma reached out to squeeze Ayar's hand and indicate her agreement, "Yes. I'll listen carefully and do whatever I can....."